That Iraq won the Asian Cup is news old and stale. The writer's assertion and subsequent take on the issue is however, an entirely refreshing bolt from the blue.
By no means are we channeling our logical muse if we swallow wholesale the following line of reasoning -
1) Iraqis win Asian Cup. 2) Iraqis are thus shown to be "a bunch of indomitable, barbarian sonsabitches. I repeat that. In the best way possible." 3) Their demonstrated prowess in football (soccer for you Yankee folk), belies a nascent capabilities in self-governance. 4) Amerikan Meddlers... Leave!
We wouldn't deign to tell Prez Bush and Gen Petraeus to scram based on the above of course. Notwithstanding the fact that the realms of public administration, policy and governance are far removed from those of impassioned football, the causal link between superior soccer and a capability to self-govern is as corporeal as the existence ofSanta Claus and his favourite reindeer - Red-nosed Rudolph.
But enough of my lyrical waxing on the logical demerits of the blogger's assertion. All that stashed safely aside and moving on, the last paragraph (see below) he penned resonated vigorously with the soul-strings deep inside. He transcends the pedestrian mundaneity of the rather limited human logos and exits the realm of cognitive certainty. He stokes embers, nascent or otherwise, which must surely burn somewhere in each and every one of our souls. Invoking the human spirit, a bold challenge is issued. But surely, with all the preceding platitudes on logic, we wouldn't allow ourselves a cursory association with the fatuous, indefinable notions of the spirit? Would we foolishly toss logic kicking and screaming out of the window, and permit ravenous sentiment the desecration of the hallowed order of reason?
But truly, what else might the passionate, beating hearts of humanity listen to? What else effectively sets emotions ablaze, and moves our species towards conviction and eventual action?
Any person concerned with the leadership/administration/
governance of self or groups of any size (aka everyone), can ill-afford non-cognizance of the awesome potential of the human spirit.
For quick reference - the last paragraph from the blog. "Message to the Singaporean government and people: Forget your new stadium, forget the sports school, forget everything else. If you want to produce a world class soccer team, nothing beats the last-minute stamina and the pure will to win that must be searched for in the human spirit itself. Champions are not made by gyms. Neither are they made by the ridiculous academic requirements that you put up in your sports school necessarily enable you to attract the best and the brightest in their respective games. Champions are made by something invisible…and it is up to each and every man and woman to search his or her own soul for that something that makes a champion. Think about our Sports Vision for 2010 and the farce it has now become…we have less than three years…and Iraq just made a mockery of all our goals. What can we do?"
So dearest reader, what say you?
-unshackled and unfettered he seeks power sublime- 7:40 am
Returns A King. The choristers gloriously start off, tribute to Leonidas return from the rites of passage signifying not only a Spartan's ascendancy into manhood, but those which allow him claim over birthright - Kingship of Sparta. Leads into the portions where the retarded Persian messengers ride impetuously into the Spartan city square. And are PWNED. MONSSSSTER KILL. Bloody noobcakes.
THIS... IS... SPARTAAAAA
Here's "Goodbye My Love" from 300. Corresponds to the part where Leonidas decides to "go for a stroll up North" with his entourage of 300. Of course goodbye to his wife and son.
You can't fully appreciate the songs without the accompanying visual media. Nevertheless they still are fine compositions alone. Troy yesterday was brilliant too, especially Achilles' theme. Though I can't find clips on both imeem and blogmusik.
-unshackled and unfettered he seeks power sublime- 12:12 pm
Hope is the faint glimmer in the dark, that which illumes the despondent depths of despair.
Hope is the rope that tethers me to the prospect of brighter tomorrows, keeping me from an awry descent into a place where all that is important to me is long gone and irretrievable.
Hope floats, buoyed by the kind words of loved ones, those we used to love, those who stopped loving us, and even those we love without ever realizing it.
Hope is my face turned to the high heavens, arms outstretched, in prayer. It is the leap of faith where I let go. Where I do what I can and must do, and acquiesce, "God, I trust in you. Do what You will with me. I am in Your fold now."
Life at times - Scary, mortifying, terrifying. Something I'm not always prepared for. But I will stand my ground.
For the pain of letting go of my dreams, of wondering "what if?" would be far more excruciating than the long and arduous road that ends in a glorious reality where dreams are manifested through my blood, sweat and toil.
